


It Had to Be You

by AvieAwesome



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29432334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvieAwesome/pseuds/AvieAwesome
Summary: It's 1926 and Bulma Briefs manages Kame House, the most popular speakeasy in West City. Freshly hurt from a breakup, Bulma has all but given up on relationships... but that changes when she meets Vegeta Prince, the newest member of the Kame House security team. AU Vegebul set in the 1920s and written for TPTH 2021 Vegebul Smutfest.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 78
Kudos: 69
Collections: TPTH Vegebul Smutfest





	1. Cropped Tops and Ripped Jeans

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to the following people for beta-ing or reading through this and giving me the confidence to post: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta. My friends are what make this fandom so fun. Song lyrics sprinkled throughout are from, unsurprisingly, the popular 1924 hit that's been covered so many times, "It Had to Be You."

[ ](https://ibb.co/LPCXP88)

_It must have been that something lovers call fate_   
_Kept me saying, "I had to wait"_   
_I saw them all_   
_Just couldn't fall 'til we met..._

1926 -

Bulma thrived in the chaos of the city. The throngs of people, the car horns, the music and conversations mingling and drifting down the sidewalks… it was pandemonium and it made her feel alive. She could be noticed if she demanded attention. She could blend in with the crowd if needed. And tonight was a night Bulma needed to blend in. She tried to appear as discrete as she could ( _act natural, lady_ ) as she stepped out of her compact car. Such a jalopy, and she could afford better, but she’d grown attached to her ride over the years. Bulma had been fortunate enough to find a parking spot near Kame House, downtown’s worst-kept secret, the most famous speakeasy in West City. She’d paid off the law with thousands of Zeni but she tried not to flaunt the illegal joint with her excitable demeanor. That would just be _tacky._

Bulma approached the door to Kame House and heard a familiar voice. “Password?”

“Dammit, Goku! For the last time, I own this place! I don’t need a password. Now open up!”

An eye appeared in the grill of the door, studying her carefully. Goku took his job seriously. Very seriously. “Aw, man. You’re no fun Bulma! I’m startin’ to think you don’t even know the password.”

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Goku, I need your muscles. Come on.”

Goku was one of her dearest and oldest friends. And he was the head of her security team. She trusted no one else to keep the patrons of her establishment safe. She didn’t need insurance. She had Goku. Everyone was welcome at Kame House. Men, women, poor, wealthy. Unfortunately, this also led to inevitable conflict.

Bulma motioned for him to follow her to her car. “Right in here. Wear these.” She handed him a pair of Goku-sized gloves that were on the front seat of her car.

He put them on, but gave her a _look_ that told her he was annoyed about it. _That’s right, buddy. You burned your hands on dry ice once. Now you have to wear the Gloves of Shame._ “Dry ice again?”

Bulma pointed at the cooler. “Yup. Carry it in, okay?” Dry ice always amused her patrons. Drop it in water, make some alluring mist. Drunk people loved it.

“You got it!” Goku picked up the cooler effortlessly and Bulma closed the car door behind him. He had grown from a freakishly strong child to a freakishly strong adult.

Bulma followed Goku through the door of Kame House. Into the jazz music. Into the alcohol-induced laughter. Into the haze of cigarette smoke and dim lights. The bootleggers, the rich and pampered, the poor who had pooled together their Zeni to visit and share drinks… all mingling together under the same roof.

God, she loved it here.

“Just put it down over there. Thanks.”

“No problem, Bulma!” Goku set down the cooler carefully. He worked hard and never complained. His better half, Chi-Chi, was responsible for the kitchen and the food. Bulma was thankful for both of them. Kame House would not be as successful without them.

Bulma felt eyes on her. She turned around and saw a man staring at her intently. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his dark eyes piercing. His suit was shabby but fit him well.

“Goku? Who’s Mr. Short, Dark, and Handsome? Do you know that guy?”

“Oh, Vegeta? I’ve known him for years. Let me introduce you to him. He’s the newest member of my squad.” Goku excitedly waved his friend over. Vegeta looked like he would rather be anywhere else, but nonetheless, strutted over with an arrogant swagger. “Vegeta, this is Bulma. She owns Kame House and manages things around here! Bulma, meet Vegeta Prince.”

He nodded politely and said nothing.

“Nice to meet you, Vegeta! How do you know Goku?” She held out her hand. He stared at it. _Well, isn’t this a swell beginning._

“Known him for years.”

“So… are you from around here?”

“Nope.”

“Wow, you’re quite the conversationalist.”

“Oh, Vegeta doesn’t talk much,” Goku clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “but he’s a great buddy! And he’s going to be fantastic at security here. He loves to hit stuff.”

“Tch.” Vegeta scowled in annoyance and looked away.

Bulma eyed Vegeta. He was handsome. Surly, yes. But he was a puzzle she wanted to solve. “Hey, tough guy. Could I convince you to get a drink with your new manager? We can chat and get to know each other.”

Vegeta looked her square in the eye. “No.”

Bulma blinked. _Wow. Utter rejection from a wet blanket._ “Okay, then.” She shuffled her shoes awkwardly. “Well, I need to get some more stuff out of my car.” Bulma glowered at her newest employee. “I’d say ‘nice to meet you’ but that would be a lie.”

Bulma stomped away. She trusted Goku and knew he hired only the best security for her establishment. Bulma understood that Vegeta didn’t _have_ to be her friend. He just had to be an effective employee. But he was attractive and he had rejected her. Her pride could only take so much. _Dismissed by a blockhead_ _. The indignity._ She opened the door to Kame House with much more force than was needed. Truthfully, she had nothing in her car, but outside was peaceful, quiet, and Vegeta-less.

She paced on the sidewalk outside of the speakeasy. It was early in the evening. Not many pedestrians were out for her to avoid. She stopped in her tracks. She’d know that voice coming around the corner from anywhere.

_Yamcha._

They had broken up months ago and it was the opposite of ‘amicable.’ She couldn’t exactly ban an ex-boyfriend from coming to Kame House so he still haunted the joint. Yamcha was a regular, and Bulma did appreciate his Zeni. Professional baseball players had plenty of cash. They were at the point where they could be cordial but Bulma didn’t want to interact with him tonight. Her dignity couldn’t take another hit like the one she’d just taken.

Her car was too far away. There was nowhere else to hide, so Bulma did the most mature, intelligent thing she could – she scrambled into the row of bushes that decorated the scant yard of Kame House and hid. She could hear Yamcha and his teammates pass her. They must have just won. They were so giddy and happy with themselves they already seemed drunk. When she heard the door of Kame House swing open (complete with Goku’s authoritative “PASSWORD!”), she stood to her feet. When she did, she realized her trousers had been torn across the leg in several places, and her long, loose blouse had been puckered with thorn holes across the bottom.

_Son of a bitch._

Only one person could solve this styling mess – Chi-Chi.

Bulma awkwardly crept around the building, holding her tattered shirt together. She realized her pants were not as injured as her poor shirt. Her trousers were serviceable for the evening, but her shirt… it looked like she’d been attacked by a kitten mauling her with tiny claws. Bulma pulled open the back door to the kitchen, which Goku affectionately called “Chi’s Kingdom.” He wasn’t wrong.

“Oh my God! What in the world did you do to your clothes?” Chi-Chi gazed at her friend in horror. Bulma was usually so impeccably dressed, ritzy and stylish. She drew some stares for her habit of wearing trousers and blouses but this never bothered Bulma. Her tastes in clothing may be controversial but no one could deny she was fashionable.

“I hid in the bushes.”

Chi-Chi stared in amazement and confusion.

“Does it matter?” Bulma snapped. “Fix my shirt!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know! You’re the sewing wizard!”

Chi-Chi sighed in exasperation. “Even wizards have their limits! Bulma, I swear…” She critically looked at Bulma’s outfit, judging her from one angle, then the next. “Take it off.” Bulma obeyed, slipping her blouse over her head, and handed the mangled garment to her friend. Chi-Chi took scissors from the nearby kitchen countertop. With no hesitation, she cut off the bottom of Bulma’s blouse. “There. No more holes.”

“Hey! That came from Paris!” Bulma snatched her blouse from Chi-Chi. When she slid it back on it didn’t even cover her midriff. She sighed as she looked down at her bellybutton.

“You have fifty blouses from Paris.”

Bulma scowled. Chi-Chi was right, but she didn’t have to be so smug about it! “Hey, do you know that Vegeta guy?”

“Oh, yeah. He and Goku served together. He’s rough-around-the-edges. But he’s a hard-worker. He’ll help us out here.”

Bulma snorted skeptically. “I practically threw myself at him earlier. Nothing! Am I losing my touch?”

Chi-Chi gave her friend a wink. “What? You? Never. And now you look even cuter. You’re all dolled up. Go talk to Vegeta. Don’t be bashful. You’re Bulma Fucking Briefs.”


	2. Glow Sticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma shows Vegeta she's not just a pretty face. And she has an ego to match his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta. They've been reading, beta-ing, and generally being awesome people.

She admired herself in the bar mirror, fluffing her cascading locks of blue hair as they curled around her shoulders. Chi-Chi may have had an accidental stroke of fashion genius. Bulma’s tight stomach was on full display, her breasts accentuated. _Say no to this, Vegeta. I dare you._

“Oh, baby doll. You look snazzy.” Whis was the most popular bartender in West City and Bulma had been lucky enough to hire him. He managed to be coyly flirtatious and the very model of decorum simultaneously. The bar could be packed to the gills but Whis was somehow able to give every customer attention, listening to their problems and offering advice. And, of course, mixing and pouring their drinks. He leaned across the bar, handsome face resting on his chin. “What’s the story here?”

“Chi-Chi performed emergency blouse surgery with kitchen scissors. I gotta say, I’m enjoying the results.” Bulma glanced around Kame House. Vegeta and Goku were side-by-side near the front door, surveying the bar. They seemed ready to pounce on a particularly unruly patron who was getting fresh with a girl. It reminded Bulma of cats watching a mouse, waiting for the right minute to attack. Bulma leaned in closer to Whis so he could hear her over the steadily increasing volume of the house band. “Hey, you see that new security guy with Goku? Don’t make it obvious you’re looking at him.”

Whis casually glanced to the side. “Oh, do I,” he purred.

“Whis! Focus! Keep your peepers on me!” Bulma ordered. “We need a plan. He’s a friend of Goku’s. Former military. Lousy at social skills. Rejected me utterly.”

“He rejected my Bulma? The audacity.”

Bulma nodded. “I know! But I’m not giving up. We just need a plan. I’m trusting you.”

“Hmmm…” Whis tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Ah! A thought. He’s a soldier. Give him a task to do. An order to follow.”

Bulma kissed Whis on the cheek. “Whis, you’re my brilliant, darling angel.”

Whis winked. “I know.”

As Bulma sauntered across the bar floor, she watched Goku grab the fresh-mouthed wise guy by the collar. As it usually did, Goku’s angry face sobered the idiot right up. Goku let go of the man’s shirt and gave him a very stern finger wagging. Unsurprisingly, Vegeta didn’t react to Bulma approaching him. No, he clearly had more important things to look at. Such as anywhere but her.

“Hey. Grumpy. Did Goku give you the tour?”

He finally deigned to glance at her as if he just noticed she existed. _Asshole._ “Tour? Tour of what?”

“All of the property. I own the building next door too. Some nights you’ll have to do security over there. I need to show you around.”

“Very well.” He squinted down at her clothing. “I believe you’re missing part of your shirt.”

“It’s fashionable!” Bulma snapped.

Vegeta smirked.

He trailed after her as she led him through the back hallway. Bulma almost struck up a conversation before realizing how pointless that attempt would be. The noises of the bar were muted, the revelry quieter. She generally enjoyed the chaos and noise of Kame House but it could occasionally overwhelm her senses. The hallway served as a retreat for her. It led to her office and a few storage closets that Bulma hadn’t bothered to organize in years. Bulma spent very little time in her office. She was more effective as a manager when working front-of-the-house. She motioned for Vegeta to wait by her office door. “Wait a minute. It’s pretty dark out. We’re going to need some light.”

He nodded. One of his dark eyebrows rose when she opened her office door. “Goddamn, Woman. How do you find anything in this mess?”

“For your information, I know where everything is! It’s organized in my brilliant brain!” Bulma made the treacherous journey from the door to her office desk, avoiding papers stacked on the floor and cigarette butts that had just missed the trash can. She pulled a desk drawer open and took two flashlights from it. “Here.” She tossed one to Vegeta, who caught it handily.

Vegeta stared at the flashlight curiously. He shook it in his hand, listening for the noise of batteries rattling that never came. “What is this?”

“Pretty sure it’s a flashlight, wise guy.”

“I know that!” he snarled at her. “But this isn’t like any flashlight I’ve ever seen before.”

Bulma leaned against her desk. “Oh, this old thing? Solar powered. Batteries are inefficient. I set the flashlights out in the sun to charge once a week or so. I don’t use them very often so the charge lasts for a few days.”

“Did you invent this?” Vegeta’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Absolutely I did.” Now it was Bulma’s turn to be haughty. “I’m not a bimbo with a pretty face. I bet you heard my family is filthy rich, didn’t you? That I’m Bulma Briefs, the wild daughter who wears trousers and smokes and leeches off her parents?” The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. “I do wear trousers. I smoke like a chimney. And I bet I could drink you under the table. But I’m also an inventor. A scientist. And I own the best speakeasy in this town. So, Mr. Prince, I want you to understand something. You will respect me. Got it?”

Vegeta was obviously a bit taken aback by her outburst, but he nodded.

“Good. Now let’s go on our tour.” She closed the door to her office, twirling the flashlight nonchalantly in her hand. “Oh, and by the way? By the end of the night, you’re gonna want to fuck me just as much I want to fuck you.”

Vegeta’s face turned bright red. “What… what did you say? What would make you say something so vulgar?”

She shrugged. “Call it women’s intuition.”

“I call it ridiculous,” he grumbled.

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Prince.”


	3. Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma shows Vegeta around the speakeasy property... including the top-secret warehouse next door. Vegeta has to admit he's beginning to have some (grudging) respect for this confident lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

[ ](https://ibb.co/LPCXP88)

Vegeta stared at the imposing building. It was a gigantic, two-stories tall, concrete monstrosity. No one could tell from looking at it, but the security team inside was armed to the teeth. “What in the hell do you have in here?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s so much better if I just show you.” She playfully poked him in the shoulder and ignored his unnecessary recoil. “Hey Raditz! It’s me! Open up!” Bulma pounded on the warehouse door.

“Raditz?” Vegeta growled. “Kakarot didn’t tell me his idiot brother worked here as well.”

“Kaka-who? And you’ve met Raditz?”

“Kakarot. He referred to himself as that in the war. He said it was an old family name.” Vegeta rubbed his forehead with his gloved fingers as if he could suddenly feel a tension headache clustering. “And yes, Woman. I’ve met the entire Son family. Endured them for hours at a time.”

Bulma could hear the creaking of metal as the bar on the other side of the door was pushed aside. She had spared no expense in keeping this building shielded from the outside. Raditz’s smiling face peeked around the door. “Hey, bosslady! Who’s the big shot with you?” He squinted his eyes, adjusting to the dark and the harsh, bright glow of the flashlights. “Is that… Vegeta?”

Vegeta sighed. Dramatically and with exasperation. “The one and only.”

“Goku said he’d hired you. Good to see you again.”

And from Vegeta… silence and a look of skepticism.

“Come on, Mr. Social. Let’s give you the round-way trip around Bulma World.” Raditz held the door open for Bulma and Vegeta. As they stepped through the door, Bulma was careful to watch Vegeta’s expression. He was, at first, inquisitive. However, when he saw what was in the magnificent warehouse, Bulma’s pride and joy, his expression turned to fascination.

Bulma’s warehouse was outfitted with the most powerful scientific equipment that money could buy. Kame House was her outlet for fun. Her laboratory was the outlet for her intelligence and curiosity. Machinery, rows and rows of lab tables, prototypes for sleek cars, Bunsen burners, chemicals of all kinds… all of it was housed in the massive building. And, nearest and dearest to Bulma’s heart, was the development of Capsule technology.

“Part of our responsibility is to guard all of this.” Raditz gestured at the expanse of space contained in the building. “Some nights you’re in Kame House. Others, you’re in here. Two different locations, both important. We’ll introduce you to everyone else sometime. There’s Piccolo, Broly, Paragus and Tien. I know it sounds like a lot of people, but when the place is this big, you need them all. No saps in this crew. We’ve all earned our place.”

Bulma nodded. “Ironically, the speakeasy is my less dangerous venture. Can you imagine what our competitors would do if they knew this was here?”

Vegeta’s eyebrows creased in thought. “This… is not what I was expecting.”

Bulma laughed. “Glad I could keep you on your toes, Mr. Prince. Follow me, if you please.” Bulma walked him around the main floor. She explained the lab components and the research and confidentiality involved. She and her father had not hired many research assistants, and those they had were given extensive background checks. There was no doubt in Bulma’s mind that Capsule technology would revolutionize science and society. They could not afford any security leaks, especially so close to perfecting the mechanics.

Bulma’s father was seated on a stool, hunched over and tinkering. He looked up when he heard someone approach. Bulma loved the smile her father gave her and only her. “Bulma! You’ve made a new friend!”

“Hah! More like a new employee. Or so he says.” Bulma winked at Vegeta and he turned his attention away from her hurriedly. “Dad, meet Vegeta Prince. Served with Goku. He’s the newest member of our crew.”

“Good to meet you, Mr. Prince.” Unlike with Bulma, Vegeta shook her father’s hand. _Jerk._ Honestly, Bulma attributed it to Vegeta being too dazed to consider refusing to shake his hand. His sharp eyes darted around the lab, seemingly soaking it all in. “Has Bulma demonstrated what’s so important for you to protect in here?”

Vegeta shook his head.

Bulma’s father handed her a Capsule. “Here, my dear. You do the honors.”

Bulma popped the Capsule and tossed it. Amusingly, Vegeta scrambled away from the ensuing puff of smoke and loud “POP!”, which she could not exactly blame him for. Once the smoke cleared, Bulma proudly gestured at the creation, with an emphatic: “Ta da!”

“Is that… a motorcycle? That just came out of that small capsule?” Vegeta approached the motorcycle cautiously, running his hands along it as if he couldn’t believe it was real.

“Sure is.” Bulma rested back on the lab table, crossing her arms smugly. “Impressed, Mr. Prince?”

“Indeed.” No sarcasm. No retaliatory comment. Just surprise. “How many of these have you made?”

“We have a few dozen that we’ll be ready to roll out when the technology is announced. Houses, cars, boats… but we’re going to keep working and inventing.”

“This is the bulk of the research, Mr. Prince.” Bulma’s father watched Vegeta appraising the motorcycle. “And now you see why this is so important.”

Vegeta nodded. “I do. This is remarkable.”

“Oh my!” Bulma exclaimed. “Was that… an actual compliment, Vegeta?”

“It was.” Vegeta mumbled under his breath, but she could see grudging respect in his black eyes for her. _Damn straight, Mr. Prince_.

“We better head back to Kame House, Dad. Don’t want to leave Goku alone too long. Love you, Daddy.” Bulma leaned over and gave her father a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be by later.”

“Love you too, dear.” Bulma’s father resumed his terrible hunching posture over his equipment.

Bulma told Raditz to stay safe as the door to the alley closed behind them. She shined the flashlight on the door of Kame House to lead the way back.

“Wait.” Vegeta was actually attempting a conversation with her. _A miracle._

“Yeah? What’s eating you?” Bulma asked.

“You’re not what I was expecting you to be.”

“Oh? Did you expect me to be a vapid, spoiled brat, counting money in her office each night?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t even hurt her feelings. It was nice for him to be honest. Many others just said the words behind her back instead of confronting her to her face. “Well, I’m not.”

“Kakarot spoke highly of you. He said you were an impressive person. I suppose I was skeptical.”

Bulma smiled. “I’m glad that he did. He’s a wonderful friend.” She dared to touch his cheek, her smooth fingers dancing across his skin. He seemed surprised by the gesture, but didn’t move away. “So… are you wanting to fuck me yet?”

“Not quite, Woman.” He smirked that infuriating smirk. “But I’m getting there.”


	4. House Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta enjoy smooth jazz music from the house band... and then share their first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

There had been a noticeable change in music since Bulma had taken Vegeta to see her laboratory. Louder. More raucous. She could hear it from the back hallway. The vibration from the instruments pulsed at her feet and she couldn’t help but move her head to the beat. Bulma grinned. “I think the Ginyu Force is playing.”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “The Ginyu Force?”

“They’re copacetic! They play here exclusively because I pay them so damn much. Do you dance?”

Vegeta simply stared.

“Okay, stupid question, but you can still enjoy the music!” Bulma pushed open the hallway door and stepped into the delightful pandemonium of the speakeasy. Drunken dancing to uproarious jazz. A couple necking in a corner. Whis putting on a show while mixing drinks. Yamcha and his baseball team smoking and laughing. Goku watched the crowd while tapping his foot, enjoying the music and the atmosphere. Piccolo, another of the security crew, had arrived to begin his shift. He was a serious man but even he had a slight smile on his face.

God, she loved it.

“This is bedlam, Woman!” Vegeta shouted over the noise of the crowd.

“I know! Isn’t it great?” Bulma beamed at him with excitement. “You’re going to dance, Mr. Prince!” She grabbed one of his gloved hands and pulled him through the crowd, clutching his fingers tightly within hers. Bulma elbowed and shoved her way through. Her figure may be slight but her customers parted for her like the sea. Bulma stood near the front of the stage, waving her hand to get Captain Ginyu’s attention. He didn’t care that he was in the middle of a song. “Got a request, Ms. Bulma?”

“Play something slow, Ginyu!” she hollered over the din of the crowd.

“You boys know what to play,” Ginyu yelled over his shoulder to his band. Ginyu gave her a thumb’s up and gestured for his band to begin. Bulma mouthed _thank you_ and turned to face Vegeta, who looked absolutely flabbergasted.

The tone of the speakeasy began to shift. The raucous dancing came to an end. Couples invited each other on the dance floor, holding each other in sweet slow dances. Bulma was surprised how shy she felt approaching Vegeta. Usually so confident and now she had butterflies in her stomach. “Don’t think you would do the Charleston with me… but will you do this?”

Wordlessly, Vegeta held a gloved hand to her. Bulma took it and placed it around her waist, placing her other hand in his. Her arm rested softly on his as the couple began to dance. The moment their bodies touched, she felt her heart beat faster. Bulma felt like electricity had struck her. _You’re not a teenager, Bulma. Quit acting like one._ But gazing into his dark eyes, his attention fully on her, she couldn’t help but feel a little lovestruck.  
 _  
“I wandered around and I finally found  
The somebody who could make me be true  
And could make me be blue  
And even be glad just to be sad thinking of you”_

“So, Mr. Prince. You’ve learned quite a bit about me tonight. What are you going to tell me about you?”

“What do you want to know?” She noticed his eyes harden. It was clear speaking about his past was difficult for him.

“Where are you from? What’s your family like?”

“Originally from Ginger Town. My parents both died during the flu epidemic. My younger brother attends college in West City.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents.”

Bulma saw his teeth clench and knew he was eager to move on from this topic. “It was a long time ago.”

“So, your brother brought you to West City?”

“He did.”

Bulma could hear the familiar _hissss_ of dry ice and knew Goku had placed it in water for dramatic effect for the couples. She just hoped to God he’d remembered to wear his damn gloves. “So you and Goku served together?”

“We did. We were rivals at first. Kakarot was a better soldier. He surpassed me in combat, impressed our superiors... but it’s hard to go through all of that shit with another person and not develop a companionship of sorts.”

“I can imagine.” The mist from the dry ice began to spread across the dance floor, giving the speakeasy an ethereal, mystical ambience. The moisture curled around their bodies and Bulma realized she had unconsciously pressed her body closer to his. She swallowed. Her throat was dry form nerves. “Have you and Goku kept in touch?”

“I called him a few weeks ago. I needed a fresh start. His phone number is the only one I knew.”

Bulma smiled. “He’s a good person. I’m glad that you found your way here.” She decided to take a risk. She rested her head against his shoulder, her hot breath dancing on his neck, her blue curls tumbling on his arm. Bulma closed her eyes. She was lost in the feel of him pressed against her and his strong hands holding her slender figure. Her fear was that he would pull away from the contact, abandon her on the floor, but his hands seemed to wrap around her even tighter.

When the song came to a close and she felt their bodies cease movement together, she pulled her head away, gazing deep into his inscrutable dark eyes as if asking him: _What’s next?_ To her surprise, he rested his forehead against hers. One of his hands let go of hers and his fingers began tangling in her blue hair, delicately touching her as if he was afraid of hurting her. Then he kissed her. Their soft lips danced together as time seemed to slow. It was gentle, it was chaste, but nonetheless it left her breathless when they pulled apart. Bulma could feel the rush of blood in her ears as her heart pounded.

“We’ll have to do that again, Mr. Prince.”


	5. Body Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Bulma decide to become closer... and the smut begins. >:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii & @Riptide14. And a special thank you to @sblovesvegeta for giving me a brilliant smutty suggestion. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

“That was quite a kiss.”  
  
In the evaporating fog and dim lighting, he was positively devilish. Vegeta slowly licked his lips, a glint of lust dancing in his dark eyes. Bulma was sure he was teasing her and she hated how effective it was. “Of course it was, Woman.” He was so arrogant. So entitled. And the worst part was, she was finding herself more and more attracted to him, egotistical personality and all. Holding hands that fit so naturally together, the peaceful dance where her head was resting comfortably against his shoulder... she was behaving like a blushing teenager at her prom.  
  
_Act your age, lady._ “You know, I have the sudden urge to wash down a wave of smugness. Up for a shot of whiskey?”  
  
“Always.”  
  
“I’ll be back.” Bulma pulled her hands from his grasp. His gloved fingers held on to her for a second longer than they needed to and Bulma felt her heart flutter.  
  
_Ridiculous._  
  
Yamcha had been stability and tenderness. He was a man she had grown up with who had been a close friend before they were ever lovers. Vegeta was passion and excitement, an unknown she didn’t understand but desperately wanted to decipher. She could not explain the attraction she felt. It was inappropriate and impulsive. But Bulma had often been accused of being inappropriate and impulsive, and she was willing to embody the social indictments if it meant a chance to experience an affair with this man.  
  
_Where have your senses gone, girl?  
_  
The atmosphere at the bar was hectic. Whis hustled among patrons, mixing, pouring, and chatting. Through it all, he maintained perfect composure and elegance. Bulma had never seen Whis flustered, stressed, or even mildly irritated. It scrambled her brain to imagine how he managed to multitask without a drop of sweat.  
  
Bulma leaned on to the bar and was about to raise her hand to get Whis’ attention when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She turned abruptly and saw Yamcha. Yamcha, a man she had loved so deeply. Bulma had assumed they would spend the rest of their lives together. But they had grown so comfortable and blasé in their relationship they forgot to work at it, and by the time they realized the connection they had was breaking, it was too late to repair it. “Hello, Yamcha.”  
  
“B.” He had an endearing smile and a handsome face. Sometimes she still missed it. “How’s it going?”  
  
“Things are going well.” She gestured around Kame House. “I mean, look at this! Business is booming.”  
  
He nodded. “That’s great, B. I’m happy that Kame House is doing well… but how are you?”  
  
Bulma thought for a moment, considering her words to him carefully. “Strangely optimistic. Better than I’ve felt since... you know.” “Break-up” was such a harsh term. Better to let the implication hang between them.  
  
“You know, I saw you out on the dance floor. Locking lips with a guy.”  
  
Bulma felt her heart lurch in her chest as it skipped several beats. _Damn hormones!_ Necking with a handsome man on the dance floor, her shamelessness on full display. “I’m sorry Yamcha. I knew you were around and I should have known better. I hope you know I didn’t…”  
  
“B, it’s okay. You were happy. It was good to see a smile on your face. Do you care about him?”  
  
“Yeah. I do.” _Not that I understand why._  
  
“Then it’s a good thing. I wish you all the best, B.” As Yamcha turned away from her, his eyes caught hers for a moment, and Bulma felt terribly sad. “And please don’t feel you have to hide in the bushes from me.”  
  
At that moment, Bulma would have camouflaged perfectly with a strawberry. She resisted the urge to bang her head against the bar in embarrassment. When Whis noticed her he daintily sauntered to her. “I saw your lips were quite busy with that Vegeta fellow. I’m expecting you to tell me all of it.  
  
“Not right now. I’ll give you all the sordid details later, I promise. Two shots of whiskey please.” Bulma drummed her fingers nervously with anticipation.  
  
Whis poured the spirits and lightly placed the shot glasses in front of her. “Now Bulma darling, were you planning on simply handing him the shot?”  
  
“I mean, yes...” Bulma responded slowly. “Why? Do you have a naughty idea?”  
  
“Those are the only kind I have. Doll, you have to be more inventive than that when someone plays hard to get.” Whis leaned over the bar. Bulma brushed her blue locks away from her ear as her friend whispered so many wickedly delightful ideas to her.  
  
Sometimes Bulma suspected Whis was as brilliant as she was.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Vegeta had retreated into a corner of the speakeasy. The music was smooth and the tempo leisurely, the lights still low. Bulma found it fascinating how the behavior of the crowd was affected by the style of music and the ambience. Kame House was bustling but the patrons spoke quietly to each other, carrying on their conversations in hushed tones. Bulma wondered how many scandalous activities were being plotted and carried out right under her nose.  
  
Bulma downed her shot and savored the amber drink cascading down her throat. She needed liquid courage. Bulma placed the empty shot glass on a nearby table and saw that Vegeta was studying her curiously. She dared to hope that she was as intriguing to Vegeta as he was to her.  
  
“Ready for your shot, Mr. Prince?” He reached for it and Bulma snatched it back. “You’re gonna have to work for it.” Bulma pulled open the front of her blouse and carefully settled the shot glass into her bra, nestled carefully between her breasts. “Go on.”  
  
“What game is this, Woman?” Vegeta snapped.  
  
“A fun one.” Bulma winked.  
  
“We’re in front of people.”  
  
“For goodness’ sake.” Bulma rolled her eyes. “If you feel like you need more privacy...”  
  
Vegeta took her arms and pulled her to him, her small body crushed against his muscular frame. The shot glass jostled unsteadily in her bra. Vegeta leaned his lips next to her ear. God, just his breath on her face and his scent flooding her senses made her whimper. _Very unfair._ “I'm tired of these games we are playing,” his husky voice murmured. “Follow me.” Vegeta took her hand and led her through the throng of people. Surprisingly, she realized that he was leading the way to the solitude of her office. She was nervous, she was anticipating, but mostly, mostly she just wanted him. His grip around her hands was strong and certain. Gone was the hesitation from earlier in the evening.  
  
He pulled the door to the back hallway open and Bulma eagerly scampered behind him. He apparently had no intention of returning to Bulma’s office. Hands on her shoulders, and with just enough force to let her know that he was going to dominate her without hurting her, he began to unbutton her blouse as he pushed her against the wall. “You’ve been bothersome since the moment we met,” he grumbled. “Beautiful, intelligent, arrogant... you’re driving me to insanity.” Bulma’s blouse tumbled open and Vegeta smirked like he was expecting to see her tits since he had first laid eyes upon her. Slowly, with aching deliberation, Vegeta removed his gloves and let them fall carelessly to the floor.

He eyed the shot glass, still perched between her breasts, and his expression became voracious. Vegeta took his pointer finger and dipped it into the whiskey. His finger made a deliberate trail from her neck to the swell of her breasts and Bulma savored the sensation of his rough, calloused finger on her unblemished skin. Vegeta placed his mouth on Bulma’s neck, lapping the alcohol with his tongue. Sweet kisses followed the whiskey trail he had left on her body and Bulma involuntary gasped. “We haven’t even begun and I already have you writhing.”  
  
“Not quite, Mr. Prince,” Bulma snapped. “And you better not stop there.”  
  
Keeping one hand near her breasts, Vegeta gently cupped her chin and kissed her before running his fingers through her blue locks. Their first kiss had been gentle; this was intimate passion. Vegeta cupped her breast in his hand. Despite the fabric between their skin, she felt his touch so clearly. His tongue slipped into her mouth as the kiss intensified. Moving his hands across her bosom, careful to avoid spilling the amber liquid, he dug his hand into her bra. He kneaded her skin with his deft fingers, playing with her nipples as they stiffened under his touch.  
  
Bulma needed more.  
  
As if sensing it, he brought his knee in between her legs, practically pinning her to the wall. Bulma felt desire and wetness begin to pool in her groin as she rocked her core against his body. Bulma’s rationally told her someone could come through that door at any moment and see her with her tits hanging out of her bra as she pressed herself against a man she didn’t understand but knew she wanted to fuck. But the emotional part of Bulma realized she didn’t give a damn.  
  
For a moment Vegeta pulled away from her, ignoring her whines of protest. He took the shot glass from her bra, swirled the whiskey around just to prolong the experience and irritate her, and swallowed the whiskey with a satisfied expression on his face. He let the small glass fall to the floor, landing in his pile of gloves.  
  
“Vegeta...” Bulma complained.  
  
“I’m not done Woman. I was merely about to suggest we go to your office.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about wanting to fuck.”  
  
Bulma grabbed his handsome, irritating face and kissed him. When they pulled apart they were both breathless. “Oh, we’re going to fuck and we’re going to do it now.”


	6. No Pants and a Missing Shoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta accidentally interrupt a moment of passion. Then they share one of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB, @kayychii & @Riptide14. And a special thank you to @sblovesvegeta for giving me smut advice. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

The couple practically scampered down the hallway towards Bulma’s office. Bulma was nervous and excited, her stomach rolling in anticipation and lust. She held her unbuttoned blouse closed to preserve a modicum of modesty. Vegeta’s face was focused on his task, a man on a mission. He suddenly stopped in front of her and Bulma almost slammed into his body. His perfect, muscular body. _Focus, Bulma._ “Hey! What the hell, Vegeta?”

“Quiet,” he ordered.

His keen senses were detecting something that she was oblivious too. Vegeta nodded towards the back door which was slightly ajar. Curiously, it was propped open with a red shoe, as if someone had intended to return quickly. “I can hear something,” he muttered under his breath. “It sounds like someone outside is in pain. Wait here.”

Bulma nodded. She had no desire to get whacked in the alley by a ne’er-do-well.

Vegeta carefully pushed the door open further. Bulma held her breath, nervously expecting the old thing to squeak in protest. When the door hit the halfway point Vegeta threw it open, intending to catch the scoundrel who was lurking in the darkness. Bulma strained her ears. She glanced at the shoe again and suddenly – a lightbulb clicked in her brilliant brain. _Oh shit._ She knew that shoe.

“Kakarot! What the hell?” Vegeta sputtered in outrage. Bulma rushed out the door and burst out laughing at the scene on display in the alley. _No villains. Only horny Sons_ _._ Vegeta had interrupted a scene of passion between Goku and Chi-Chi against the back wall of the speakeasy. Chi was desperately trying to pull down and smooth out rumples in the dress she’d obviously pulled up for a quick fuck with her husband. Goku was attempting to pull his pants up while enduring a tirade from Vegeta.

“What the hell Vegeta?” Goku whined. “What’s your problem?”

“We’re on the clock Kakarot! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ anything!” Goku protested. “I asked Piccolo if he could cover for a bit because we couldn’t find you” – he narrowed his eyes accusingly – “and I was hungry! And I went in the kitchen, and Chi was standing there in her tight dress and her red shoes, and well…”

“It happens Vegeta!” Chi snapped. “Where did you disappear to anyway?” Chi glared at Bulma and opened her eyes wide in surprise. Bulma realized her blouse was wide open, her breasts on full display in the warm summer evening. “Oh Vegeta you have some nerve! Look what you and Bulma were doing!”

Goku followed Chi’s eyes to Bulma. “You were doin’ the same thing Vegeta! Why are you so mad at me?”

Vegeta’s face turned beet red. “We were doing no such thing!”

“But we were about to,” Bulma pointed out. “So come on. Time’s wasting!”

“Vulgar woman…” Vegeta muttered. He kept his face to the ground, striding towards Bulma on a back alley walk of shame. Goku rolled his eyes as his friend walked by while Chi-Chi laughed.

As Vegeta retreated to Bulma’s office, she could hear Goku holler: “Bye guys! We’ll be in soon!” _Excitable, sweet Goku._ She had to bite the inside of her cheeks to prevent her giggles. If she laughed again, Vegeta may flee the zip code.

Bulma’s office looked like a bomb went off. Scattered papers, books on the floor, and a grumpy handsome man leaning against her wall. It was her sanctuary away from the hustle and bustle of her hectic life. Bulma was an extrovert but even she needed solitude and quiet occasionally. Unsurprisingly, Vegeta was practically hiding in the corner, arms crossed, scowling. His face was now a light shade of pink instead of tomato-red.

“You okay?”

“No!” Vegeta snapped. “That was pretty damn embarrassing.”

“I know. Sorry about that. Can I make it up to you?”

His thick dark eyebrow quirked. _Oh, he’s intrigued._ “What do you have in mind?”

Bulma came close to him. Her teeth nipped his earlobe as her hands found his belt. “Well, I could play with this. If you’d like me to.”

She felt his breath catch in his throat. “Yes.”

“Mr. Prince, I just want you to know… I’m the type of lady who swallows.”

Vegeta barked out a short laugh, proving he had a sense of humor. Of sorts. “Noted.”

Bulma gave his earlobe a fluttery kiss, then sank to her knees on the carpet flooring. She ignored the rug as it uncomfortably dug into her knees. She had more important things to worry about. Bulma pulled down his pants and gazed up at his face. Vegeta seemed a bit nervous, which was unexpected, but he was certainly eager. Bulma took a peek in his underwear and giggled. She was greeted with his cock, already hardening in anticipation of her.

“Do you find something amusing, Woman?”

“No. Something impressive.” She tugged down his underwear slowly, relishing in teasing the haughty man. He was impatient and she was in control. Her smooth hands wrapped around him and she was rewarded with an animalistic growl. Her tongue teased the tip of him, licking and leaving soft kisses along his length, and when he was ready for her, she took him into her mouth.

“God, Bulma…” she heard him hiss. His hands gripped her hair roughly, and the sensation of him grabbing her in a rush of desire made her moan. She could feel that he was close. Bulma began taking his cock down her throat as much as she could without gagging, and Vegeta pumped eagerly. Their rhythm was effortlessly synchronous. When he spilled inside of her, he cried out in ecstasy as she hungrily swallowed him.

Bulma wiped her mouth and stood to her feet. With a tenderness she didn’t expect, Vegeta tipped her chin towards him. “You beautiful, vulgar woman.” Apparently uncaring that he’d just come in her mouth Vegeta kissed her deeply, and Bulma felt that she was only thing in his world that mattered.


	7. Bathroom Quickie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just smut. You're welcome. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB (my amazing beta), @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta for giving me smut advice. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

She had told him she needed to freshen up in the restroom. In her experience, men were never quite sure what “freshening up” entailed, but they knew women needed to do it. Vegeta was putty in her hands now. She aimed to push him over the edge and he was already teetering.  
  
Bulma studied herself critically in her bathroom mirror. Her hair was a wreck and her clothes were drabby. She dressed in blouses and trousers for convenience. She was always moving. Managing the bar, directing employees, crawling on the floor in her lab... difficult activities in a dress. She didn’t exactly look her best and most beautiful. She could get dolled up when she wanted to, but she'd had no need to look extra-beautiful today. Bulma had no idea this handsome, short, furious man would come wandering into her life. Bulma frowned at her reflection. Vegeta was hardly the first man she’d been with, but he was the only one who made her nervous. _Ridiculous how much control he has over me. Absolutely ridiculous._ Was it possible to have such an intense emotional and physical connection with someone she’d met only a few hours ago?

 _Here goes nothing._  
  
She pushed the bathroom door open, exhaling slowly. Vegeta was leaning against her desk. His dark eyes ravaged her body, running over her slowly from tip to toe. “Goddammit Woman. You’re beautiful.” Bulma yelped in surprise as he practically pounced on her. She hadn’t had time to even leave the bathroom. Vegeta pushed her up against the bathroom wall, kissing her with a fervor she’d never felt from another man. He reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting the garment slide to the floor in a heap.  
  
Vegeta kissed her neck, his tongue grazing her skin lightly. Bulma shuddered as he lowered his face to her breasts. The eager expression on his face told Bulma just how anxious he was for her. He placed one hand firmly on her waist while the other began to play with her nipple, which quickly stiffened under his coarse touch. Vegeta’s mouth sucked on her other nipple. His tongue deftly played with her, doing things to her she didn’t know tongues could achieve. _This man is practically a menace to society._ She wrapped her hands in his hair and clutched it tightly in her hands. It was surprisingly soft and she ran her fingers along his scalp, relishing in the silk feeling of his hair contrasted with the deliciously rough treatment he was giving her breasts.  
  
Bulma began to squirm with impatience. “Lower. Go lower.”  
  
“Your wish is my command.”  
  
With one smooth motion Vegeta pulled down Bulma’s trousers and she stepped out of the unnecessary clothing, tossing them with her foot into a pile with her bra. Vegeta ran his finger along her underwear. “Tell me what you want.”  
  
“Get in me.”  
  
“Not with those terrible manners I won’t.” Vegeta licked two of his fingers and continued running them over her entrance. “I can feel you getting wet, Woman. You’re practically soaked.”  
  
“Goddammit Vegeta! Please!” Bulma usually wasn’t a woman to beg. But for tonight, for him, she would make an exception.  
  
Vegeta carefully removed her underwear, sliding her unmentionables down her body. They, too, became an addition to the growing pile of clothing. “That’s better Woman.” Vegeta plunged two of his fingers deep inside of her body and Bulma gasped. God, he was right. She was embarrassingly wet. His slick fingers deftly moved inside of her, curling and teasing her as he watched her come undone. Vegeta tightened his grip on her waist. Bulma could feel his pulse through his fingertips, and he was breathing as hard as she was.  
  
“Woman... you’re invading every inch of me.”  
  
“Fuck, Vegeta.” She threw her head back against the bathroom wall. Bulma could feel her core beginning to tighten.  
  
“You’re in my mind and my thoughts. Plaguing me.”  
  
Bulma cried out as Vegeta slipped another finger inside of her. “I’m going to...”  
  
“Quiet. Not yet.” Vegeta whispered into her ear and his low, gravelly voice alone almost broke her. “You win, Woman. I do want to fuck you. And I want to be the only one who fucks you.”  
  
“You can’t claim me,” Bulma snapped. His fingers continued to play inside of her, stroking her, caressing her. “I’m not a possession. And if this is a fight, I'm not surrendering to you. I...” Bulma suddenly lost her train of thought as his thumb began toying with her clit. She was so damned close. The accursed smirk on his face, the glint of lust in his eyes. “I... God, I want this from you. Only you. I’m choosing this and you’re choosing me. Now fuck me,” she panted.  
  
Vegeta had pulled up his trousers after their last encounter. Now he was pulling them down again, setting a record pace. His penis was more than ready for her. Bulma gasped as he slid into her. He filled her completely, a perfect fit inside of her. Bulma pulled her face to hers, kissing him with rugged eagerness. Their tongues battled against each other as he thrust into her, their sweaty bodies pressed together in the world's oldest dance. He was gentle at first as he pumped into her, almost tender, but he became progressively more intense. Bulma gripped the sides of his face, refusing to let him go. Vegeta pressed his palms against the bathroom wall. Considering the rapid pace of his fucking, he probably needed the stability.  
  
Bulma had never had a more incredible sexual experience in her life.  
  
“Oh God...” She was almost over the edge, and when Vegeta took his thumb and began to play with her clit again, circling and rubbing her, she lost herself in pleasure. Bulma cried out as her orgasm rolled over her, filling her with ecstasy to the bottom of her toes.  
  
Vegeta bit her shoulder and Bulma clenched her teeth together to keep from screaming with desire for him. She felt Vegeta’s body shudder against hers as he came inside of her, his breathing ragged and gasping as he spilled. His black eyes met hers. Vegeta fingered a stray blue curl that was dancing near her face with the utmost gentleness. He tucked it behind her ear. Beneath his rough exterior was a lover she had never encountered before, a man who would please her mentally and physically. Sex with him was a battle, two strong forces coming together, neither having the advantage, taking and surrendering control in turn until both were satisfied.

“Woman... I could stand to do that again.”


	8. Police Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police make a visit to Kame House. Bulma and Vegeta clarify their feelings for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first time participating in SmutFest and I hope you all enjoyed reading my fic! I appreciate the people who left comments and kudos. Thanks again to: @Here2ReadVB (my amazing beta), @kayychii, @Riptide14 & @sblovesvegeta. Y'all are the bestest! Make sure to check out @Here2ReadVB's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431107) and @sblovesvegeta's (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435988).

It had been months since Bulma had been held tenderly by a lover in the sweet afterglow of sex. Vegeta’s shoulder was the perfect height for her to gently rest her head against as her heart gradually ceased its frantic beating. He caressed her skin with his fingers, displaying a tenderness she would not have thought him capable of scant hours ago. For a moment, the world around them didn’t exist. It was simply the two of them, alone, resting after their exertions and discovering each other’s bodies.  
  
A banging on Bulma’s door snapped them both back to reality.  
  
“Bulma!” Goku’s frantically called for her. “Coppers are here! You’ve gotta come!”  
  
“Shit shit shit,” Bulma cursed. “Coming!” She pulled on her clothing as quickly as she could. Her heart had just finished running a marathon and she felt like it was preparing for another lap.  
  
“Bulma, I’m gonna go try and keep everyone calm. Hurry up!” She could hear Goku’s retreating footsteps rushing back to the main area of the bar.  
  
“Don’t you pay them off?” Vegeta asked. Pulling on his underwater and pants, he seemed calmer than Bulma, although that would not have been difficult to achieve.  
  
“Of course I do!” Bulma snapped. “I pay them more in a month than most people earn in a year! This has never happened to me before!” _Unbelievable. Does no one honor the bribery_ _system in this city anymore?_ Bulma ran a hand through her hair to tame the unruly mess. She pulled down her blouse as far as she could and adjusted her trousers so she looked a bit more decent. “Come on. Let’s take care of this.”  
  
Bulma refused to run. She strode confidently, calmly. She was in control. She was the proprietress of the most popular speakeasy in West City and a brilliant inventor. Bulma wielded considerable power and influence in the city and she was unafraid to use it. _With all of the favors I’ve earned, with all the money I’ve thrown at them... how dare they?_ She was no longer panicking. She was territorial.  
  
Bulma pushed open the door that led to the dance door, expecting to see her patrons surrounded by policemen armed to the teeth. She looked at Vegeta in confusion. Judging from his expression, he shared her bewildered sentiments. “Vegeta... do you see anything wrong?”  
  
“No.” His dark eyes examined his surroundings, carefully studying the patrons one by one.  
  
“Hey guys!” Vegeta and Bulma turned to see Goku speaking in surprisingly jovial tones considering he had just warned Bulma that her business’ existence was in danger and she and everyone in the room would likely be arrested. His hand was clapped on his best friend Krillin’s shoulder, big ol’ goofy grins on their faces. Krillin’s wife, Lazuli, looked at Bulma in wry amusement, standing apart from the two in an effort to not be associated with their prank. Yes, Krillin was a policeman, but he was also one of their closest friends. If this was Goku’s idea of joke, it was a rather poor one.

Krillin at least had the decency to appear nervous about incurring Bulma’s wrath. “Uh, hey Bulma. Goku thought it would be funny.”  
  
Bulma told herself to count to three. _One... two...  
_  
Vegeta apparently decided not to count to three.  
  
“Kakarot! Is this your idea of a goddamned joke?” Vegeta thundered. “This is the copper?”  
  
“Yup!” Goku affirmed. “I found... a policeman. In the speakeasy.” And then he winked for extra effect. Just to make sure everyone understood it was a prank.  
  
“Dammit Goku!” Bulma kicked Goku in the shin as hard as she could. “It’s not funny!”  
  
“Ow, Bulma!” Goku rubbed his leg defensively.  
  
Lazuli smirked. “Oh, it’s a little funny.”  
  
Bulma rubbed her forehead. “I need a drink after that. Vegeta, keep yelling at these clowns.” As Bulma departed from the pair of fools, she could hear Vegeta loudly berating them. Bulma was impressed. Vegeta was almost as good at scolding Goku as she was.  
  
Patrons had begun to file out. It was so late at night that it was early in the morning. Bulma realized how exhausted she was. Whis was wiping down the bar and glasses, but he put everything down when he saw Bulma approach. “Bulma! I am in dire need of an update!”  
  
Bulma sat at a barstool, resting her chin in her hand. “We definitely fucked.”  
  
Whis gave a little cheer. “Oh my! Congratulations! Was it everything you’d hoped for?”  
  
“And more.”  
  
“Then why do you look so disappointed, doll?”  
  
Bulma sighed and gathered her thoughts. “I’ve never felt an instant connection with anyone like I do with him. Sexually, emotionally, mentally... it just feels so right, but I don’t know if he feels the same way. This could have been a one-night stand that he doesn’t want to repeat with me. Plus I’m his boss, I was impulsive... I just don’t want to regret tonight.”  
  
“Well, honey, I’m not a mind reader. You need to talk to him.”  
  
“Do you believe in love at first sight, Whis?”  
  
“Oh, such an interesting question you pose.” Whis leaned over the bar, settling his chin in his hand, mirroring Bulma’s pose. “I’ve seen people married for thirty years divorce because they were in a loveless marriage they put no effort into. I’ve seen people who have sex the first night they meet and stay together for years because of the passion. If it’s right, then you know.”  
  
Bulma scrunched her face. “Dammit, Whis, you didn’t answer my question.”  
  
“Correct! Now go talk to him. Go.” Whis made a shooing motion. She knew he was right.  
  
 _You can do this, Bulma._  
  
Bulma’s staff was sweeping the floors, gathering dishes, and arranging furniture back in its proper position. Vegeta was hovering by the door, arms crossed as always, his eyes studying her carefully. “Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?”  
  
Vegeta nodded. He seemed almost as apprehensive as she was. Discussing emotions was clearly not the man’s forte. His eyes darted around him nervously. “Outside.”  
  
Bulma followed him into the cool evening. Considering the hour, she was unsurprised they were alone in the normally bustling city. Bulma adopted his defensive posture and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay. Tonight was fun in more ways than one. But Vegeta... what does tomorrow bring?”  
  
He looked away for a moment before meeting her blue eyes. “What are you expecting from me?”  
  
“I’ve never felt so goddamned attracted to a person I’m exasperated by. I’ve never fucked someone so simultaneously irritating and desirable to me. I guess I’m expecting that you feel the same.”  
  
Bulma could see emotions race in his eyes - lust, longing, wariness, anxiety, desire. “And if I do?” he quietly asked.  
  
“Then come home with me.” Bulma held her hand out to him. She didn’t know his past. She sensed that it was troubled. Maybe he needed time. Was this too rushed? Perhaps she was just a quickie in the restroom and nothing more to him. A million thoughts flew through her mind and his inscrutable expression offered no answers to her.  
  
But then he put his gloved hand in hers, cautiously holding her as if he feared she would run from him any moment. “Lead the way, Woman.”  
  
Bulma smile and together the couple walked down the sidewalk of West City, hand in hand.


End file.
